Hell Hath No Fury
by Kat Ducat
Summary: It's her Sixth Year and Ginny is in the mood for something violent. Sometimes you just gotta set fire to something, you know? Unfortunately, Blaise has the bad sense to try to seduce her. Silly boy.


_A/N: Written for Football 2.1 in the 2012 Hogwarts Games, the Bat-Bogey Hex in the Magic Competition, Pepper Imps in the Honeydukes Competition, and the 100 Different Pairings Competition with 'Slytherin'._

)O(

There's a kind of morbid fascination in wandering the halls of Hogwarts at this hour. Teacher patrols are rare and pop up unexpectedly; you might see none when going to the library one night but three on your way to the bathroom on another. Really, most of the teachers wouldn't do anything if they caught you anyway. McGonagall would probably just sniff and pretend you weren't there, then walk past you and whisper in your ear that you should go back to the Room.

She'd warn you that there are worse people sneaking 'round the castle. You wouldn't want to meet them in a dark alley, and certainly not in a dark classroom where they would have the power to do anything they wanted to you.

They could leave you bleeding buckets on a cold stone floor and not bat an eyelash. The worse of it would be that no-one else would acknowledge it for all its horror either. It'd be just another hushed-up death.

They'd say you asked for it.

Disregarding rules should be punished in a way so memorable everyone around you would remember it forever, even if you were too far gone to learn it yourself.

But what the hell, you couldn't have a little fun without taking risks.

Ginny tiptoed down the stairs, some of them still moving. She had decided to take this night to go down to the Slytherins' common room, bastards that they were. She was under an obligation to do anything she could to help her fellow rebels.

They would surely appreciate it if she set fire to Crabbe's bed. Someone needed to stand up for the ones who had had Crucio cast on them so many times that their first reaction to seeing the Slytherin was whimpering.

When she finally came to the dungeons, she stopped and held her breath, listening intently. There were usually a few more people wandering around here than anywhere else, as the new administration had given the 'specially gifted' students the freedom to roam the school at will. They said that this was because those _'special' students were setting an example by being so good at lessons and everyone should look at them and do their best to start learning as diligently and stop being such dunderheads._ And those were Headmaster Snape's own words, the slimy git.

But never mind. The Slytherins were probably all snoring soundly after the feast they had consumed last night. The only time she'd ever seen such pigs was at the Burrow, and that was only because you couldn't get closer to a pig than being a pig, i.e. a hooved member of the something-or-other family.

Taking care to make sure that her footsteps were muffled by the Muffliato, she walked towards the sleeping painting that covered the entrance of the Slytherin common room. Before he could wake up and see her, she grabbed at the long part of her sleeve and user it to cover the portrait's eyes and mouth.

It woke with a muffled grumble but before it could do anything more, she spoke.

"Harry Potter."

The portrait swung back and she clambered through it. Really, they were too predictable. The person everyone was thinking about was the best choice for a password, _of course._

"So, I see you couldn't bear to be away from me anymore. Welcome, Ginny.

She froze, still with one foot in mid-air, and cursed inwardly that she had had to put away her wand when covering up the portrait.

"What do you want, Zabini? Don't you dare do anything stupid like curse me. Still remember my Bat-Bogey Hex?"

"Believe me, the only stupid thing I might to tonight is have sex with you. And even that, I wouldn't consider stupid. Sleeping with the enemy is an inherited trait in my family." He grinned and stood up from the couch he'd been lolling on. He sauntered to stand in front of Ginny, who was furiously trying to think of a way she could take her wand out of her hair without him noticing. It was lucky she had it up in a bun. Otherwise he'd had seen it poking out from on top of her ear.

She would have to play defenceless until she could get her hands on it.

"So, that whore of a mother you've got is still going strong, I take it?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Huh. I guess you've been whoring yourself out too?"

"Babe, I couldn't not do it. I mean, look at me. Women think I'm a god."

"Well, I can't say I disagree with the women."

"No-one does. I knew you couldn't help but love me." He leans against the wall that separates them from the rest of the castle, the light of the lake playing on his face. She angles her head to the side in an attempt to hide the back of her head, then smiles. When Ginny smiles, her face radiates warmth and general well-being. A person can't help but smile back, charmed.

He takes this as encouragement. Really, he wouldn't have needed any but the fact that she's actively responding to his wooing is quite comforting. What does it matter if she comes from a family of blood traitors? It only makes her bloody hotter.

"Zabini, or should I call you Blaise? I've got a proposition for you."

"If it comes out of your mouth, you can call me anything. Would this proposition have anything to do with activities that are, should I say, sexual?"

"Mmm, you won't know 'till we've done it."

"I can't wait, babe."

"You start." She raises her head to his and he catches her lips in a kiss. His lips are soft, so soft she is reminded of the time she kissed Luna once on a dare. They smell vaguely like strawberries, probably still from the feast.

His tongue forces itself into her mouth. It swirls around in it, coming into contact with hers and rubbing over it. It may be the only rough thing about him except for his attitude.

She grabs her wand in one smooth move points it at Blaise, stunning him silently. He doesn't even have time to open his eyes before he falls to the floor.

From personal experience, she knows that he'll be out cold for more than enough time for her to serve her original purpose. Crabbe had better watch out.

Anger is best when it's sincere. She's forgotten about why she wants revenge exactly, but she knows that it's well justified. There are no innocent people in the world. There are only those who haven't been caught.

Before going into the seventh year boys' dormitory, she hexes Blaise again as an afterthought. He really shouldn't have tried to grope her.

Will a Bat-Bogey Hex, a Furnunculus Curse and a nice Expulso be enough? Well, maybe she should lay off the Expulso. She'll save that for another day.

Hell hath no fury like a woman who's been patronised one time too many.

)O(

_Fin_


End file.
